Tuesday, 11 May 2010

Yes, it is time to cry, despair, cash the pennies for the rainy day, repent your sins, watch the unfolding of the redressing of class power structures and throw up. I have done the last on that list. My tummy couldn't take the news. Throwing myself around the room and furniture. Writhing about on the floor. Postulating. Shouting. Conjecture and imaginings.

Sexual intercourse. I propose that fucking is the best way to proceed. Lose yourself in someone else. Exploit someone else to achieve ecstasy.

And do it do Death From Above 1979. It is amazing. That song.. Make Love And Listen To... bollocks.. it's a cliche for a reason, my friends.

Here is the sexiest. Hand picked not for love-making. For fucking. And to forget that we are politically fucked.

Monday, 10 May 2010

I am massively tired today. I have no reason to be. I didn't do anything strenuous yesterday. I had an adequate amount of sleep.

All the little things I usually do to kid myself into feeling energetic, or just less tired, are not working. I had 3 cups of coffee this morning, which is normally ends in nervous state. But yawns prevail. Peppermint tea to freshen up. Nothing. Sugary snack. Heavy eyes. Pretending I'm a Young Knife. Enjoyable but not making me as alert as I'd anticipate ordinarily.

And all the while toying with the question of whether it is social divisions that are important or is the real issue whether or not we can move beyond these social divisions through social mobility?

Thursday, 6 May 2010

I'm still poorly. Nervous and anxious. Desperate for anything to take my mind off what is happening. Listening to either Belle and Sebastian or Death From Above 1979. Immersing myself in the LCD Soundsystem album and attempting to formulate something exciting to say about it. I have a presentation next week. I'm not concerned, but I should be. My ears are ringing, my throat is sore, my eyes are puffy. I look bedraggled. I feel bedraggled.

At moments where I can no longer bare the world and the ongoings around me I have a deeply personal ritual.